<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Turning the Tide by IndigoButterfly</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582004">Turning the Tide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoButterfly/pseuds/IndigoButterfly'>IndigoButterfly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Turning the Tide [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Master and Commander - All Media Types, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age of Sail, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Loss, Moving On, Past Character Death, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:06:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoButterfly/pseuds/IndigoButterfly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the death of Peter Calamy in the taking of the Acheron, Will Blakeney has seen his share of action and lost more shipmates than he can count, but it's the loss of his first and truest friend that continues to haunt him. On leave, Blakeney goes to see Calamy's mother in the hopes that he can share his memories and provide her some comfort, while getting some closure of his own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Blakeney &amp; Jack Aubrey, William Blakeney &amp; Peter Calamy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Turning the Tide [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Safe Ashore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Midshipman Lord William Blakeney pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and squinted at his own messy handwriting. Comparing the scribbled address to the nameplate on the corner, he concluded he was in the right place. Finding number 12, he stood and took in the house before him. It was an elegant home, but pleasant and welcoming, with a lovely garden in front of large windows. As many times as he had hoped this moment would come, Blakeney found that now he was here, he could not yet will himself to approach.</p><p class="western">
  <em>An overwhelming sense of grief wracked Blakeney's small body. His shoulders shook, tears streamed down his cheeks, his breath came in gulps. All the sorrow the young midshipman had felt for the past fortnight had caught up with him at last. He'd felt it coming, a growing dread looming over him as he lay in his hammock in the midshipmen's berth, which had felt resoundingly empty since the death of Peter Calamy in the taking of the Acheron. As the certainty had grown stronger, Will had fled the berth and found refuge in the quietest place he knew – a tiny alcove, hidden under the aft steps. He hoped that there, he could allow his grief to emerge and then pass, with none of his shipmates any the wiser. He was just beginning to regain his composure when a familiar voice filled the small space.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Mr Blakeney.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>An imposing pair of leather boots stood at the alcove's opening - the Captain. Will was filled with a new kind of dread.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Sir?'' he replied, as steadily as he could.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Remove yourself from there, if you please.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Sheepishly, Blakeney emerged from his hiding place, cheeks now flushed with shame as well as sorrow. He raised his knuckles to his forehead and forced himself to look Captain Aubrey in the eye. The Captain was dressed in trousers and a frilled shirt, with his hair loose, as if he had just emerged from his hammock.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Ship's officers do not hide like rats,'' the Captain said disapprovingly. </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''No sir,'' Blakeney replied, straightening his back and holding his head high, ''I'm sorry, sir.'' </em>
</p><p class="western"><em>''No apology needed, Mr Blakeney. However,'' Aubrey continued in a harsh timbre, ''I would advise you to bear in mind that this is the life we chose. There will be more men lost, you can count on that.'' </em> <em>Blakeney could only nod, his mind blank and words elusive. Aubrey studied him for a moment, before his countenance softened considerably, and he let out a sigh. </em> <em>''But this – this was particularly difficult, wasn't it?'' he continued in a gentler tone, ''Even for the most seasoned of the men. Mr Calamy was a fine young officer, and a good friend to you, I know.''</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''He was, sir,'' replied Blakeney, ''I admired him a great deal.'' </em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Aubrey nodded, ''I'd certainly come to rely on his presence of mind. It is a great shame he did not have sufficient opportunity to serve as Third Lieutenant. I was beginning to think he would make a fine Captain one day.'' </em> <em>Will's eyes widened. Such praise did not come easily from Captain Aubrey's lips, and for a moment he wasn't certain he'd heard him correctly. </em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''Pardon me, sir – a Captain? Did you truly think so?''</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>''Indeed I did. Mr Calamy possessed a keen mind and a sharp instinct. He led the men with courage, and they respected him a great deal. But he had something just as important: gumption.'' </em><em>Aubrey lowered his substantial frame onto a nearby bench, and invited Blakeney to join him. </em> <em>''When Mr Calamy first boarded the Surprise,'' the Captain told his midshipman, ''he was a scrawny pipsqueak, barely twelve years old, fairly clinging to his mother's skirts. I had not wanted any first-voyagers aboard – I had no time for such things at that stage. But I had served with his late father Captain Edward Calamy on the Theseus, and felt I could not refuse his mother's insistence that the boy go to sea.'' </em><em>The Captain leaned forward and continued in a low voice altogether unusual for him, ''Do you know what he did when she left?'' He paused dramatically. ''Cried like a newborn babe.''</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>Will couldn't imagine Peter Calamy doing any such thing. </em>
</p><p class="western"><em>''It's true!'' Aubrey assured him on noting Blakeney's skeptical expression, ''Mr Pullings had to take the boy below decks and give him a slice of plum cake!'' Aubrey chuckled, and Will couldn't help but smile. ''You </em> <em>can see why I did not expect much from him, but Mr Calamy proved me wrong. He had <span class="u">gumption.</span>'' Blakeney jumped as Aubrey punctuated the word with a resounding slap of his hand on the table. </em></p><p class="western"><em>''Some of the older mids told him that if he carried a bull calf around the deck on his shoulders every day, his strength would grow along with the animal. The beast weighed nearly as much as he did, and it kicked him on more than one occasion, but he persisted. He carried that bull at the crack of dawn each and every day. And <span class="u">that</span> is when I thought 'Perhaps this boy has more to offer the Navy than I had realized'. And he proved me right every day since, including his last. </em> <em>So Mr Blakeney, I do understand your dismay, more than you know. But Peter is gone, and there is nothing we can do. We may be comforted in the knowledge that he charged into action without fear and did what he set out to do. There are worse ways to go than dying with honour at the end of the enemy's blade.''</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>Will was consoled by the thought, if only a little, and he reflected on what Peter would have wanted for him. ''I can only hope that the finer qualities he possessed will reveal themselves in me, in a way of which he'd be proud,'' he told his Captain earnestly.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>A smile creased the corner of Aubrey's mouth. ''I already see something of Peter in you,'' he confided in his young officer, ''You are capable of following in his footsteps, if you are willing. Take hold of what you've learned from him, as an officer and as a friend, and let the rest go. The grief and the sorrow will do nothing for you.''</em>
</p><p class="western">Two years had passed since the late-night conversation in which Captain Aubrey had encouraged him to let Calamy go. Blakeney had grown taller and wiser, and had seen his share of action in the intervening years. As the Captain had assured him would occur, the <em>Surprise</em> had lost a number of crew since the <em>Acheron</em>, and there had been other losses that were difficult to take. But while the acute sorrow he'd felt in the aftermath of Peter's death had tempered itself, a familiar sadness still lingered. The abrupt shift from the elation of his first command and thrilling taste of close combat into the sudden, horrific realization that his dearest friend had not survived to celebrate the victory alongside him had nearly been more than he could bear. The guilt that had erupted as a result had been numbing – he was younger, smaller, less experienced, and less assured. And yet he had lived and Peter Calamy had not. He could not see a sense in it, and it haunted him.</p><p class="western">Blakeney took a deep breath, before walking up the garden path looking more confident than he felt. He raised the brass knocker, and announced his presence to the household.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Brothers in Arms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">''Lord William Blakeney,'' the young maid announced, and beckoned him into the sitting room. Blakeney entered and was met by a handsome woman nearing forty, with dark hair and familiar blue eyes made bluer by the shade of her dress.</p><p class="western">''Mrs Calamy,'' Will greeted her, removing his bicorn, ''It is truly an honour. I served with your son Peter on the HMS <em>Surprise.</em>''</p><p class="western">A mixture of emotions crossed Mrs Calamy's face, and for a moment Will thought the visit a mistake: perhaps opening the wound would be too much for Peter's mother to bear. But the sadness soon cleared and Mrs Calamy smiled warmly.</p><p class="western">''Welcome, Lord Blakeney,'' she said, putting her book to the side and rising from her seat, ''How wonderful to meet you at last.''</p><p class="western">''You know of me?'' asked Will, quite surprised.</p><p class="western">''Certainly I do, my Lord. Peter spoke so highly of you in his letters. Please, do sit down.'' Will took his place in an armchair facing the sofa Mrs Calamy had settled on. ''We'll have a pot of tea please, Louise,'' she added, turning to the maid, who left the sitting room with a curtsy. Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Mrs Calamy continued, ''And are you still serving on the <em>Surprise</em>, Lord Blakeney?''</p><p class="western">''I am, yes,'' Will replied, ''I'm on a week's leave currently, before we set sail again.''</p><p class="western">''And is Jack Aubrey still her Captain?''</p><p class="western">''He is, madam, and as irrepressible as ever.''</p><p class="western">''How splendid,'' said Mrs Calamy, before getting to the heart of the matter, ''Now, Lord Blakeney, to what do I owe the honour of your visit?''</p><p class="western">This was a conversation Will had been planning on having for some time, but as he sat under the expectant gaze of Peter Calamy's mother, he found he had much to say but didn't know where to begin.</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Are you alright Mr Blakeney?'' Mr Pullings asked with concern.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Yes, sir,'' managed Will, his stomach lurching ''Just not feeling quite myself is all.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''You've had a long journey to join us and the motion does take some time to get used to. No need for you to start a watch today – get some rest, and you can begin tomorrow.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Yes, sir,'' repeated Blakeney, trying not to sound too relieved, ''Thank you, sir.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Mr Calamy,'' called out the First Lieutenant.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Sir?'' Came a young voice, and a dark-haired midshipman of about fifteen approached with a salute.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Show Lord Blakeney below and acquaint him with his hammock. He will begin his watch at eight bells tomorrow.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Aye, sir,'' replied Calamy, before turning to Will. ''Come along then.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Blakeney followed the older boy below decks, through the maze of the cramped seamen's quarters and down again. The odour of warm bodies, stale food, and various species of livestock lingered in the air, serving only to make his nausea worse. Finally they entered a small area aft, where a series of hammocks hung only inches apart. Two young men not much older than Will himself were seated at a small table in the corner playing cards.</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>''Here we are, the midshipmen's berth,'' said Calamy, ''There are now five of us aboard currently. That's Williamson and Boyle'', he said gesturing to the boys, ''This is Lord Blakeney, the new mid.'' </em> <em>Williamson and Boyle nodded in greeting, but exchanged looks as they continued their game.</em></p><p class="western"><em>''This hammock will be yours,'' continued Calamy succinctly, ''and you may hang your coat over there.'' </em> <em>Will looked around the dark, miniscule space as his stomach continued to turn, and wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake. </em> <em>Calamy seemed to note the younger boy's discomfort for the first time, and his tone softened. ''It's not much,'' he added, ''but it's ours.'' </em></p><p class="western"><em>Blakeney nodded as best he could, as he yearned to rest his head until it stopped spinning. ''Does</em> <em>it always move about quite so much?'' he asked shakily.</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''You'll soon be used to it,'' Calamy assured him, ''You'll be an old hand in no time.'' </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''I do hope so, Mr Calamy.'' </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>A smile seemed to play on Calamy's lips, soon replaced by a decorous expression. ''Come,'' he beckoned, steadying Blakeney's hammock, ''Get some sleep, and tomorrow the fun begins.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Will climbed tentatively into the swinging canvas. ''Thank you, Mr Calamy,'' he said as he lay his head down.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''When we're not on watch, you may call me Peter.''</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>''Thank you, Peter,'' Will murmured drowsily. </em> <em>Calamy nodded politely, and retreated to the main part of the berth. As Blakeney's eyes began to close, he could hear the two younger midshipmen quietly discussing him with thinly-veiled disdain. </em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''A Lord, is he?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''An awfully small one.'' </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Pipe down, would you,'' said Calamy sharply, ''Why don't you find something useful to do?'' He departed the berth to continue his watch on the quarterdeck. </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Calamy's just puffed-up because the Captain favours him,'' muttered Boyle.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''If you knew starboard from larboard, perhaps the Captain would favour you as well, Boyle,'' taunted Williamson, ''You'll be even older than Hollom by the time you make Lieutenant.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''It was only the once!'' grumbled Boyle, ''I got confused.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>The card game resumed once again, as Blakeney began drifting away towards sleep.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''I'll tell you one thing,'' was the last thing he heard Williamson say ''He's never told <span class="u">me</span> to call him Peter.''</em>
</p><p class="western">The maid set a silver tea tray down on the table with a clank, pulling Blakeney from his thoughts. As he struggled to find the right words, a small figure appeared on the terrace, and Will felt the colour drain from his face. Mrs Calamy followed Blakeney's gaze, and finding the source of his startled reaction, smiled reassuringly.</p><p class="western">''The resemblance is striking, isn't it? Louise, will you fetch Master Calamy in please?'' The maid disappeared, before returning to the sitting room with a boy of about ten. His chestnut hair, vivid blue eyes, and serious air made him the absolute image of Peter.</p><p class="western">''This is my son, George,'' Mrs Calamy told Will, ''Darling, this is Lord Blakeney. He served with your brother.''</p><p class="western">The boy's countenance brightened as he looked admiringly at the young officer before him. ''You knew Peter, my Lord?''</p><p class="western">''I did,'' Will replied warmly, the unease fading, ''He was a great friend of mine.''</p><p class="western">George Calamy smiled, then considered for a moment. ''I was very little when Peter went to sea,'' he told Will, ''There's not much I can remember of him, except that he used to play with me in the garden. But I have always imagined that he was very brave.''</p><p class="western">''Very brave indeed,'' confirmed Will. Blakeney recounted the story of Calamy's 'first command', the raft with the replica mast they had used as a decoy to lure the <em>Acheron</em> away from the pursuit of the <em>Surprise. </em>George watched on in wonder as he heard how Peter had climbed the floating mast in darkness, lit the lanterns, and unfurled the sail as cannon fire soared past, before leaping into the cold sea and scaling the hull of the frigate to safety.</p><p class="western">''It sounds as though he had a great many adventures,'' said George longingly, ''But Mother says I am not to go to sea. I am to attend school instead.''</p><p class="western">''Perhaps that is for the best,'' Will told him, ''I am certain an education will do you good. Navy life is very difficult, and very dangerous.''</p><p class="western">''Were you there?'' George asked suddenly, ''When Peter was killed?'' It was not a question Will had been expecting from the child, and it unnerved him for a moment. Regrouping his thoughts, he looked to Mrs Calamy, who appeared uneasy but hesitantly nodded her assent.</p><p class="western">''I was,'' Will told the younger Calamy carefully, ''Though I did not see it happen. But I know your brother led his boarding party with great courage, and freed the men held below, men who helped us to take the <em>Acheron</em>. He did his duty to the end. Captain Aubrey told me himself what a fine officer he thought Lieutenant Calamy to be.'' George beamed with pride, and began to speak again, clearly full of questions for his brother's shipmate.</p><p class="western">''George darling, I think that's enough questions for Lord Blakeney. Why don't you return to the terrace and play?''</p><p class="western">Clearly disappointed, but equally obedient, George acquiesced with a polite ''Yes, Mother.''</p><p class="western">''It was wonderful to meet you, Master Calamy.''</p><p class="western">''And you, my Lord,'' George replied with a slight bow, and departed.</p><p class="western">''Is that all true, about Peter?'' Mrs Calamy asked hesitantly, nursing her cup of tea, ''I received a lovely letter from Captain Aubrey, expressing his deepest condolences. He spoke very highly of my son, however I could not help but wonder. Certainly all Captains have nothing but kind things to say in letters home to the loved ones of those who have been lost under their command. I hope...that there was some veracity to his words.''</p><p class="western">''I am certain that every word was true, Mrs Calamy,'' Will affirmed sincerely, ''Captain Aubrey was very fond of your son, and had a great respect for him, he told me so himself. Peter was capable beyond his years and the Captain put his trust in him often.''</p><p class="western">''I am pleased to hear it, '' Mrs Calamy said quietly, before sipping her tea thoughtfully as she considered Will's words, which seemed to be of comfort.</p><p class="western">''He was not only an exceptional officer, but a true friend'', Will continued, ''When I was wounded and certain I would die, Peter stayed by my side, even as the doctor took my arm. He did not promise me I would live, or offer empty platitudes - his steadfast presence was comfort enough, and I am eternally grateful for that, and the encouragement he offered afterward. I will never forget his kindness.''</p><p class="western">
  <em>''What are you reading?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Blakeney looked up from the book Captain Aubrey had given him to see Calamy standing alongside his hammock. </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''It's from the Captain,'' Will replied with pride, ''It's about Lord Nelson. I suppose he thought it relevant to my current situation.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Well, if Nelson can manage with one arm, I'd dare say you can as well.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''It says here that Lord Nelson was back to giving orders within the hour of losing his arm in battle in Tenerife,'' recounted Will, ''So I fear I am not living up to his example.''</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>''Not yet,'' said Peter. </em> <em>Will smiled, despite his aching right stump.</em></p><p class="western">
  <em> ''Captain Aubrey served under Nelson, you know,'' Blakeney said,  ''At the Nile.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Indeed. I have always wondered what that must have been like.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Have you never asked him about it?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Certainly not,'' scoffed Calamy, ''It is not my place to ask the Captain those sorts of questions.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Do you not want to hear about it?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Of course I do, Will. It's just...''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Boyle tells me you're to dine in the Captain's cabin this evening. There's your opportunity.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Midshipmen do not address the Captain at the officer's table. I certainly -''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Oh please, Peter. I do so want to hear about it. Won't you please ask?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Calamy was silent for several seconds as he contemplated his friend's request. His eyes shifted to what remained of Will's arm, before meeting his gaze. </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''If the opportunity presents itself...I shall ask.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Will beamed, and Calamy smiled despite himself. He sat by his friend's bedside and settled in.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Now,'' said Peter, ''Tell me more about the battle in Tenerife.''</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Duty and Regret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">''May I ask how old you are, Lord Blakeney?''</p><p class="western">''I'm nearly sixteen, Mrs Calamy.''</p><p class="western">''So young. Peter was only twelve went he went to sea. He was so small, and so quiet. I feared for him, and I questioned endlessly whether it was the right thing to do. But my husband had always wanted his son to be a Navy man like himself, and after his death, I felt I needed to honour his wishes. And my situation was difficult. I was,'' she continued, shifting awkwardly, ''with child when my husband was lost, and my financial situation was strained. I did not feel I could provide my children with the lives they so deserved. I knew he did not want to go. But I felt it for the best. I wept the day I left him on board the <em>Surprise</em>, though I knew Captain Aubrey would look out for him as best he could.</p><p class="western">As George began to grow and blossom, it felt wrong to willfully deprive him of his brother when he had already lost his father. After my Great Aunt passed and left me a very helpful sum of money, I tried to get Peter to return home, but he refused. He was a Navy man now, like his father, he said. He belonged at sea and would hear of nothing else. I still feared for him of course, but it was a comfort to know he had come to love his profession, and I am very pleased indeed to hear that he was held in high regard by Captain Aubrey and his shipmates. I am certain Captain Calamy would have been equally proud of him, and there is some solace in knowing he is with his father once again.''</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Mr Hollom is dead.'' </em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Calamy sat up in his hammock with alarm. </em> <em>''He's what?''</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''He jumped,'' Blakeney said, head still swimming with shock, ''Picked up a cannonball and simply...jumped. He's gone.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Will, are you certain?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''I saw it with my own eyes, Peter. He is certainly dead.''</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Calamy leaned back in his hammock, and let out a deep sigh. </em> <em>''I don't know what to say. I am sorry to hear it.''</em></p><p class="western"><em>''Are you sorry, Peter? So you should be. You treated Hollom just as poorly as the next man. He didn't deserve that from you or from anyone. He may not have been held in high regard as an officer, but he was a good man and I was his friend. Perhaps his only friend.'' </em> <em>Blakeney sat, overwhelmed by anger and sadness. Calamy calmly studied him, before rising from his hammock and sitting next to his distraught friend.</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''I am sorry, I truly am. Hollom was a poor excuse for an officer, but I suppose he did mean well. He did try, and I did nothing to encourage or support him. But the man was thirty years old, Will, and I sixteen. What could I have done for him, if he had not progressed in all his years at sea?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''It's not only about seamanship, Peter - it's about character. This ship is our home, and this crew are our family. We should look out for one another.''</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Calamy considered this solemnly, ''You're right. And I truly am sorry for the loss of Mr Hollom, and sorry that you had to see it.'' </em> <em>Blakeney's anger faded as he took in Calamy's apology. Peter was never one for empty words, and Will knew his regret was genuine. </em></p><p class="western">
  <em>''I suppose we all need to be ready to see things such as that,'' Blakeney admitted, his head beginning to clear, ''It is certain in times like these that more will be lost.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Indeed,'' agreed Calamy, ''I have already seen many men die. My own father was lost at sea.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''As was mine,'' murmured Will. </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Their eyes met and Calamy nodded before continuing, ''I try not to think about it,'' he said thoughtfully, ''It is of no use to worry about what could happen and how. We must simply do our duty and hope for the best. If it comes to the worst, we must make certain that we are remembered by our actions.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''And how will Hollom be remembered?'' wondered Will aloud, ''Not well, and not by many, I'd say.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''He will be well remembered by you, and would be glad of it, I'm sure. You did what you could for him, which is more than what any of us did. I do envy your amicable nature at times, Will. But you must take care that your sense of empathy does not overwhelm your sense of duty.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''And I envy your resolve, Peter. Perhaps I shall be calling you Captain one day, and you may have me as your First Lieutenant. Then we shall balance one another perfectly.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''I would be honoured,'' Calamy said with a grin.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Remembrance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">''There is something I would like to show you,'' said Mrs Calamy, rising from the sofa, ''If you would like to see it.'' Will stood and followed her out of the sitting room and down a corridor, where she stopped by a curtain in front of what he thought to be a window. When Mrs Calamy drew it back, however, a small alcove was revealed, with a familiar sight tucked into the corner: a sea chest, with P. M. CALAMY neatly inscribed along the top.</p><p class="western">''I was grateful that Captain Aubrey was able to arrange the return of my son's chest,'' Mrs Calamy said, ''As my husband's ship was lost with all hands, there was nothing to be found. It means so much to have Peter's things with me.'' Atop the sea chest stood a silver frame, holding a portrait of Peter in his midshipman's uniform.</p><p class="western">''May I?'' asked Will, nodding toward the frame.</p><p class="western">''Of course.''</p><p class="western">Will carefully picked it up and studied the image of his friend, seeing his face for the first time in nearly two years. It was just as he remembered, and so was Peter's expression – solemn and perhaps somewhat aloof, but with a kindness behind the eyes that Will knew could spread into a warm smile in an instant.</p><p class="western">
  <em>''But what does he intend to do?'' Williamson asked in hushed tones, trying to keep his words within the midshipmen's berth, '''I thought the point of your little exploit with the raft was to get the Acheron off our tail! Why on Earth is he trying to find it again?''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''How many times must I explain it to you, Williamson?'' Calamy responded irritably, his exasperated tone starkly contrasting the gentle manner in which he was stroking the ship's cat that had settled in his lap, ''Captain Aubrey is bringing us about to give us the weather gauge and an advantageous position for battle.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''It wasn't so much a battle last time as a square beating,'' Williamson moaned, ''It is not something I wish to repeat.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''We have been ordered to take the Acheron and that is what the Captain intends to do,'' Calamy replied emphatically.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Well it isn't a fair fight,'' muttered Williamson, not daring to irritate the older boy any further.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Do you really think it will work, Peter?'' Blakeney asked with hesitation, ''The Acheron is far faster than we are.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Of course it will work,'' scoffed Calamy, ''If anyone could make it work it's the Captain.'' He stared down Williamson until the younger midshipman relented and moved to the far side of the berth.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''I do hope you are right,'' said Will. </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Calamy leaned in, and with a quick peek to ensure Williamson was no longer listening, confided in a hushed tone, ''So do I.'' </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>The cat meowed in agreement.</em>
</p><p class="western">Blakeney reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of black fabric. Hesitantly, he extended his hand and offered it to Peter's mother.</p><p class="western">''I wanted to give this to you. I took it from this chest, before they shipped it back to you,'' Will confessed, ''I should not have done it. I hope you can forgive me.'' Blakeney looked away, at once ashamed and anxious that he would bring Mrs Calamy to tears. But she remained composed, taking the neck cloth from Blakeney's outstretched hand, and running her thumb over the small letters stitched into its corner. Raising her eyes to him once again, she smiled sadly.</p><p class="western">''My dear Lord Blakeney, there is nothing to forgive. If you took it and have kept it safe all of this time, then it must be important to you.'' Will nodded wordlessly as Mrs Calamy pressed the cloth into Blakeney's hand with both of her own.</p><p class="western">''Then you must keep it. And may it help you to remember my son. I am certain he would have wanted you to have it.''</p><p class="western">
  <em>Cannon fire whizzed past the Surprise as the Acheron fired warning shots over the stern of what it believed to be a harmless whaling ship. </em>
  <em>Below, the gun deck crackled with anticipation. Blakeney stood ready with his gun crew, his excitement to command the Surprise when the boarding party took the French ship tempered by nervousness about the battle to come. Catching his friend's eye, Calamy picked his way through the gallery. </em>
  <em>Blakeney made his way toward him, raising his knuckles to his forehead in deference to the newly-appointed Acting Lieutenant as they met between stations. As always, Calamy exuded a quiet confidence that Blakeney found reassuring.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Good luck, Will.'' </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''Good luck, Peter.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Calamy extended his left hand, and Blakeney shook it eagerly, almost feeling his shipmate's calm energy entering his palm. Will thought he felt Peter give his hand an encouraging squeeze before releasing his grasp.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''I'll see you afterwards,'' Calamy assured him.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>''And you.''</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>But for Peter Calamy, there was to be no afterwards.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. New Horizons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Returning to the <em>Surprise</em>, Blakeney discovered that the ghost of Peter Calamy no longer haunted him as it once did. Facing his grief had left him feeling free, and contented in the knowledge that he had helped Peter's mother with moving on, as she had helped him. The residual guilt they had both carried had been washed away in the sharing of Peter's life and loss.</p><p class="western">Rummaging around in his sea chest, Blakeney found his neck cloth. Calamy's had not left the chest until Will had taken it to return to to his mother. Though perhaps an insignificant item, what he had hoped would serve as a small memento of his friend had become a blight on his peace of mind. The piece of fabric had remained buried in the chest, a reminder of Peter and that day on the <em>Acheron</em>, the day that a 13-year-old Blakeney had his first bitter taste of what the life he had signed up for truly meant. He'd kept it hidden, wracked by the guilt that he had removed it from its rightful place and kept it out of the hands of Calamy's grieving mother. But now, it felt different. Mrs Calamy had absolved him, and the cloth was now his alone.</p><p class="western">Blakeney vowed that no longer would he let Calamy's loss eat away at him, but that he would follow the advice Captain Aubrey had given him two years before: '<em>Keep what you've learned from Calamy</em>,' he'd said, <em>'and let the rest go.'</em> Aubrey had been right, as he usually was: Peter's lessons as an officer and as a friend had shaped Will's career and his heart, and though they would always be with him, it was time to set the sorrow free. He returned his neck cloth to the chest, and took the other. He ran his thumb over the lettering stitched in to the seam, feeling the small and tidy PMC, just as Calamy's mother had done. Tying the cloth carefully around his neck, Will turned the initials inward and tucked in the cloth, before donning his midshipman's coat and hat.</p><p class="western">Blakeney climbed the steps to the quarterdeck – his watch was about to begin. Standing by the rail, Will soaked it all in: the rush of the sea air, the smell of the salt, and the flapping of the sails, as the <em>Surprise </em>cut her way through the crashing waves. The naval life was indeed difficult, but it was the life he chose and it was where he belonged. Peter Calamy's own life had been a short but meaningful one, and a determination grew in Will Blakeney to make his friend proud. Rather than let Peter's loss weigh heavily on his heart, he would instead honour him by doing what Calamy himself had dreamed of – making a life for himself at sea and rising through the ranks as his father had done before him.</p><p class="western">Eight bells chimed across the deck: the day was beginning and Midshipman Blakeney was eager to meet it.</p><p class="western">''Good luck, Peter,'' Will whispered toward the horizon, ''I'll see you afterwards.''</p><p class="western">His words were caught by the wind, and carried out to sea.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>